The Issue of the One
by savefrancegetintomypants
Summary: Out of the three Ri brothers, Dori was the only one to have found his One, at this point.
1. Chapter 1

_Erebor was lost for 171 years, meaning that if we go for movie canon (which I will for this story), Ori will have been born less than 100 years after Smaug came. Book canon makes Thorin 24ish (preteen for a Dwarf) around Smaug, so I'll make Dwalin around 190 now. (four years younger than Throin, because I can.) Ori is 76 years old in my head canon, making him just past maturity and one year younger than Kili. Dori is around Thorin's age, and Nori was born a year or so after the loss of Erebor, so to not make him too much older than Ori. (I can imagine that Nori was just reached maturity when Ori is born, being as having children is a hard thing for dwarven women, so a long age-break is normal.)_

* * *

Out of the three Ri brothers, Dori was the only one to have found his One, at this point. They had met at Erebor, when Dori was still a young dwarfling. Nori hadn't been born yet, still nothing but a twinkle in his mother's eye, but sometimes, when the eldest was in a pleasant enough mood, Dori would speak to Ori of his One, and Nori would listen at the door.

When Dori spoke of his One, he spoke of a young dwarfish girl with flaming hair and a smile that reminded him of the finest gems. He spoke of a feisty personality, so unlike Dori's own, that challenged him and made him better. Dori spoke a lot of things about his One, but in the end, neither Ori nor Nori knew who she was, nor where she was now.

At times, Nori suspected that neither did Dori.

This, however, might not be true. Judging from his brother's lack of searching, Nori had little hope left in him, that she was alive out there somewhere. Nor that there was really any doubt that she was. Because if there was doubt, Nori couldn't imagine that his brother would be anywhere but out there, searching the world for her.

He knew that the youngest of them wished with all of his heart that she was out there, searching for Dori. He held stubbornly onto a childish hope that the flame-haired girl from his brother's tale, was currently spending everyday looking into crowds, hoping to see her One looking back at her. Ori was a romantic in that sense, never believing that his brother could have lost his soulmate.

Nori knew this because he had witnessed Ori talking of his and his brothers' Ones more than once with their mother, before she passed.

Nori spend more of his time listening at doors, than he cared to admit.

Back then, their mother had told her youngest child every romantic story she had ever heard, encouraged the then dwarfling to believe in them, in a vain hope that it would spare him from the harsh reality. A hope that both Dori and Nori had kept alive after their mother's death.

Not all dwarves recognize their One straight away. It was often seen, especially with the younger dwarves, that it took years before the feeling on rightness settle into a dwarf's bones, until their finally looked into their intended's eyes and saw nothing but beauty and happiness reflected back. This could mean that Nori had, perhaps, already met his One. His One could be in the Blue Mountains, going about their everyday life, blissfully unaware that Nori was there as well.

Of course, it was also entirely possible that Nori had never and would never meet his One, but he tried his best not dwell one either of those


	2. Chapter 2

_So, after doing some more research, I figure out that book-canon Dwalin wasn't even born, when Smaug came, being 26 years younger than Thorin. For the sake of the story, I've decided to age him up, because I want him to remember Erebor, and to have grown up there for at least some part of his life. So right, he's still 19__0._

* * *

Travelling across the lands with his brothers was nothing new to Ori. His entire life so far had been travelling. Spending a few years in each city, taking whatever job they could get (though Dori never allowed Ori to work before he came of age), renting whichever rooms they could, sometimes sleeping all of them in one bed.

However, of all the places Ori had seen in his, admittedly short, life, the Shire was like none of them. Even in the darkness of the early-summer evening, Ori could see the lush green fields that spread as far as his eye could reach; he saw the homely holes in the hills, with smoke coming out from the chimney and a warm orange light gleaming from the windows.

When they left Ered Luin, they had no idea what to expect, even Ori with his vast knowledge had no idea what a Hobbit was, but somehow, the Shire wasn't anything like that they had thought it would be.

Neither was the Hobbit.

Bilbo Baggings was a kind-face, short, big-bellied male, with a disturbingly lack of a beard. Even as the Hobbit looked at them with disdain and rattled off about them ruining his home, Ori could see the kindness in his eyes. A trait not often seen in the eyes of his kinsmen. The fact that the Hobbit was merely yelling at them and complaining about them, and not throwing them out, when he clearly didn't wish for them to be there, was also a testament to his soft heart. Something Ori knew, that the others probably felt was a weakness, but that he very much liked about their host.

Inside the Hobbit Hole there was chaos. The good kind of chaos, that Ori was sure Mister Baggins was in no way used to, but that was so very home to the dwarves. Singing, drinking and feasting on good food. Contentment settled into each of the guest, filling the air around them, making even the socially awkward Ori feel at ease with his new companions.

Many of the dwarves knew each other from Ered Luin, and even before that. Although having been forced to become a nomad people, many of the dwarves of Erebor still kept a tight net between them, and the comradely tonight was a testament of that. Even Ori's eldest brother Dori seemed to know most of the people there, as he was currently speaking to the elder Balin, trying to get heard above them noise of the celebrating dwarves around him.

Ori didn't know most of the dwarves around him. Sure, he knew of a few of them. Mainly Kili and Fili, being that they were nearly the same age as he was, and had lived in Ered Luin for most of their life. He wasn't friend with them, they were of a higher rank than him, and had always seemed to have enough in their own company, but he had spoken to them a few times. Enough to know that they might be wild and a bit out of control, but they were still nice enough guys, which was all Ori needed to know.

He also knew of Gloin, who had a son some years younger than Ori, who always trailed after the princes with a large grin on his face and his fingers wrapped around a battle ax.

Balin and Dwalin, Ori was sure that everybody in the company knew. It had been Balin who had visited all the members before they were to leave the Blue Montains. He had come around a couple of times, informing them about the journey, and making them each sign a contract much similar to the one Bilbo would be signing later on. In his time with Balin, Ori found that he very much enjoyed the older dwarf, finding him interesting and kind.

Dwalin, on the other hand, didn't strike Ori as kind. The warrior often wore a stern expression on his face, toughened by years of hardship. He was an intimidating figure, who was well-known throughout the Blue Mountains as a fair and just guard, but also capable of being very frightening and cold-hearted.

Ori knew him through Nori's profession, which had often gotten the middle Ri into troubles with the guards. Whenever his brother had been caught, and needed bailing out the guards would visit the Ri household, to collect the fee. The times that Dwalin collected, he stood in the entrance of the house, arms crossed, patiently waiting as either Ori or Dori fetched the money.

Out of all the times Dwalin had visited their home, Ori had only ever witnessed the guard entering the home, and speaking anything but the fee amount, one time. Dori had been at work, taking extra shift in order to stretch his earnings enough to support three, and Ori had been left of his own, waiting for his middle brother to return home for dinner. When a knock came on the door, and he opened it to see Mister Dwalin standing there, a passive look on his face, all Ori could do was sigh.

"Again?"

The elder dwarf gave a curt nod and mumbled the price. Only 25 pieces this time, apparently the crime hadn't been too awful. Ori quickly scattered off, after inviting the other dwarf to step in – although he knew from experience that he wouldn't -, to find the gold. As he returned to the room, he was surprised to see that his invitation had been taken to heart, and Dwalin now stood in the room, arms behind his back, and door closed behind him.

"You alone?"

Ori nodded, not quite able to find his voice, rather stunned to see that Dwalin had actually stepped inside the house this time. It took him a moment or two before he got control over his tongue once again, stuttering out:

"Y-yes Mister Dwalin, my brother Dori will not be home for another few hours," he paused, fidgeting with the gold he held in his hand, "I was suppose to make dinner for Nori and

I," Ori inclined his head towards the food sitting on the table, and the two plates laid out.

Dwalin looked at him in silence for a moment, as if weighing his next words through his head before saying them.

"Nori will not be released before the morning."

Ori normally knew better than to argue with the guards, but he had truly been excited about spending the evening with Nori, who was rarely at the house anymore, due to his disagreements with Dori.

"Are you certain? I know he did wrong, but can you not make an exception Mister Dwalin?"

Dwalin shook his head, stepping closer to Ori, collecting the money from him, quickly stuffing them down the heavy leather wallet strapped around his middle.

"I am sorry lad, but we cannot bend the rules this time, the man he stole from, is from a higher class and would not see kindly to it. We've already claimed a lower bail than he approved."

Ori lowered his head, resigning to his situation. Letting out a sigh of frustration, he quickly thanked Mister Dwalin for the low bail, watching as Dwalin turned to leave. The idea of spending the night alone didn't sit well with him, and thinking quick he stepped forward, gripping onto the guard's larger arms.

"Will you not stay for dinner, Mister Dwalin? I've made far too much food, now that my brother will not be returning, and I do not wish to throw anything out."

Dwalin was clearly surprised by the request; his brows pulled together and mouth hanging slightly open. It didn't, however, take him too long to compose himself and give Ori a small smile.

"I would like that very much, lad."

Dwalin had spent the night there, left before Dori returned and came back with Nori the next day. The conversation had been scarce, and they had not spoken since. They moved in different circles, interlacing only through Nori, who had decided to leave Ered Luin for a few months after that. By then Ori and Dori had accepted to join the quest, dragging

Nori with them once he returned, and quickly left for the Shire.

Now however, Ori mused, Dwalin and he would have plenty of time getting to know each other, if the elder dwarf wished to. Ori could only hope that he did.


	3. Chapter 3

_So far I've decided I'm doing one chapter from each perspective of the couples (except Dori's One), and after that I'm simply letting the story go wherever it want. __**Also, if you want to follow the news of my fic-updates, and check out my fanart, check out my tumblr: nerdishparadise dot tumblr dot com**_

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Growing up in the Blue Mountains, there were more orphans than not. Bofur had been a young dwarrow when they arrived, one hand grasped in Bifur's larger, more calloused one and the other hand clinging onto the sleeve of Bombur, who was so young, that he didn't even remember arriving. He simply remembered the darkness and long days before.

It had been hard for Bifur, raising his two cousins. Still not of age, he had no prospect of a decent job, and had to make due with taking whatever he could get, hoping to scramble together enough money to feed himself, and first and foremost his younger kinsmen.

It had been a travelling merchant who suggested they would make toys. Bombur had been playing outside with one of the many toys that Bifur would carve for him, this time a mighty fine horse, a delighted smile on his face.

The merchant had stopped and looked at them for awhile; it was still a novelty to see dwarves for the other species, as, aside from the ones from Erebor, they did not venture much outside their own societies.

"You could sell those, you could," he had said, pointing at the toy in Bombur's hands.

Bifur, who at that time still spoke the common tongue, had asked him to clarify, wanting to make sure he was hearing correctly.

"They are good," the merchant explained, bending over to inspect the horse that seemed almost real if it were not for the fact that it was made entirely of wood. "I reckon you could get a decent amount of gold for 'em, at least enough to make a living."

And so they had become toymakers. It was odd, coming from a long line of miners, to suddenly be something so entirely different than what he had grown up knowing he would be, what he had trained to be ever since he was old enough to go into the mines and not cause a ruckus. All that training and all those years had to be put aside, for the new learning from Bifur, teaching him how to carve a perfect nose, and how to make the twinkles in the dwarrowdam's eyes.

Bofur soon became pretty good at making the toys, good enough that Bifur felt at ease picking up the extra odd job around the town to pay for Bombur's apprenticeship at the cook. Of course, sometimes the extra odd job would be going away to fight for whatever army would pay him.

The day Bofur found out that Bifur got injured, was also the day that Bofur saw his One for the first time. He was minding the shop, as Bifur was away for yet another war, fighting to keep food on their table, rather than fighting for whatever cause his employer wanted him to.

He noticed him immediately, standing two stalls away, glancing at some jewelry with disinterest in his eyes. Bofur saw the way the other dwarf, no more than Bofur's age – perhaps 60-years-old – waited for just the right moment when the shop-owner glanced away, before he –quick as lightning – snuck the first and the best necklace into his pocket, before strolling along.

The look he gave Bofur as he walked by his shop, was smug and it was clear to the toymaker that the thief knew he saw him. The warm feeling that settled in Bofur's stomach told the young dwarf just why he hadn't reported the stealing when he saw it. Although he was disgusted by what he saw, no matter how low they had been, not once had they stolen. It became very clear to Bofur that this _thief_ was his One, and there was nothing that he could do about it. However much he tried.

It also became clear to Bofur, that his One did not recognize him for who he was, when he never saw him again.

Ignoring the pang in his heart was easy enough when he lost himself in Bifur's care and the toy-making. Bofur decided at the tender age of 62, that he would never get involved with his One, even if it would kill him in the end.

Of course, fate was never on Bofur's side.


	4. Chapter 4

The first time Dwalin saw his one, was when the boy was only a dwarfling, and could not be any more than 60, 65 at most, not yet done with being a teen. He knew the moment he laid his eyes on him across the table. He had spending the day on desk duty (someone had to do it, and he while it wasn't ideal he wasn't one to cop out on a job, simply because it was boring.)

The dwarrow was tiny next to Dwalin's massive form, and rather skittish by the look of it. He had a rather hard time looking at Dwalin's face – probably scared half to death – and looked to be the type to have no business in a place like this, and like he would rather be anywhere else. He had terrified brown eyes, that reminded Dwalin of the finest dirt from their home, and copper coloured hair with freckles scattered across his nose in a way the warrior did _not_ find incredibly adorable.

"Can I help ye, lad?" Dwalin managed to get out; doing his best to look as if he didn't feel like the ground had fallen from under him.

The dwarrow seemed to gather his confidence, looking Dwalin straight in the face – who felt his heart sink at the lack of reaction from boy, making him quickly curse under his breath, after all, this was a _boy_, he was hardly old enough to find his One.

"I'm here to collect Nori," the lad said, his voice steady.

Trying his best not to show surprise at the dwarf words, Dwalin quickly motioned for one of the guards around them to go fetch the criminal from his holding cell.

"That'd be 20 golds, lad."

He quickly received the fee, stuffing it in the pot they kept on the table for the payments. His hands felt clammy, wet with nervous sweat, so he quickly dried them in his trousers, looking anywhere but at the boy in front of him, suddenly incredibly angry with himself.

Surely it was a mistake, this boy couldn't actually be his _One_, could he? He was a child for Aluë's sake! And he, Dwalin, was getting on age. He had all but given up on his romantic life, and now it seemed that it was officially impossible for him to have one. He could not be with someone else knowing who his One was, nor could he be with his One, due to who _he _was. That part of Dwalin's life was officially doomed.

" Ori, glad to see you brother!"

Dwalin was startled out of his gloomy thoughts by the sound of his most dreaded convict. He ignored once more the tightening of his heart, now at learning the name of his One. _Ori. _ And instead opted for sending Nori a well-deserved glare (sure the dwarf hadn't done anything at that moment to earn one, but that didn't mean he didn't _deserve_ one.)

"Let's just go, brother," Ori said with a sigh, dragging his brother out as quick as he could.

Behind them, Dwalin promised himself to make sure that this was the last time he ever spent any time alone with his One.


End file.
